


Reborn

by Enchantable



Series: Lost and Found [2]
Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Angry Sex, Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Five Stages of Grief, Hurt/Comfort, Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-24
Updated: 2013-09-24
Packaged: 2017-12-27 12:25:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/978846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Enchantable/pseuds/Enchantable
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mako comes back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reborn

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: in which mako and raleigh have a huge fight, don't talk for a small amount of time and then angry sex ensues.

She sets the bag down and looks around the room. 

It’s been exactly twelve months and three weeks since she was last in here. Still for all the years she lived there, she thinks it should feel more familiar than it does. It’s her room, all her possessions are neatly packed in several boxes that have been taken out of storage upon her return. Mako ignores them and turns to her bag, beginning to methodically hang up her clothes. Her blues are now blacks, but other than that things look pretty much the same. 

It doesn’t take long. 

When it’s done she sits on the bed and looks at the room, wondering how a place that’s so small can seem so huge and impersonal. She sits there until she can’t and then she pushes herself to her feet and brushes her hands along the silk of her slacks before pulling open the door. Raleigh’s is closed and Mako shoves the lick of disappointment away. He knows she’s here, whether he wants to see her or not is up to him. 

People are polite to her, which is the worst part. 

Mako does not deserve their politeness, of that she is certain. She could not stay in the Shatterdome though, not with all the ghosts that surrounded her. The idea was not even hers. She would have stayed if it was just her, when faced with a problem she’s always been one to attack it head on. But staggering out of the Shatterdome felt so natural, it felt like she had done it before. Which, in a strange way, she had. She had run and she had wandered and spent most of her time on the highest places she could find. 

She didn’t have anything to wield, but the principle was the same. 

She goes through the motions of greeting people, she fills out paperwork and gets back in to the routine of the decommissioned Shatterdome. As of right now it is formally decommissioned, but that’s while it’s being refitted as a research facility. Mako spends her time filing out paperwork and answering the United Nation’s questions as Herc grumbles about useless bureaucrats not knowing their place. 

The photo op is the first time she sees Raleigh. 

He’s in dress blues, the formal uniform tailored across his broad shoulders and the tie in a perfect knot. His eyes are fixed ahead and she can see the tension on his body. He’s agreed to this but he does not want to be there, that much is painfully clear. Mako knows she deserves his anger, she deserves a lot worse and when he nods curtly to her she wishes the ground would just open up and swallow her whole. 

It doesn’t. 

They smile for the cameras and lie through their teeth which ties her stomach in knots, though that isn’t anything new for the state of Mako’s insides. At the end they stand shoulder to shoulder and wave and Raleigh’s hand wraps around her waist as Mako mirrors the movement. When he pulls away the first second he’s able to it feels like someone’s dropped ice down the back of her uniform and she has to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from shivering. 

He keeps his door closed. 

Their drift bond is silent, it has been for some time. Mako knows she’s to blame at least partially. Their bond would have faded anyway, but she helped it along by putting physical distance between them. When she looks at him the only thing she can read is anger and that secretly scares her because anger can’t be the only thing he feels. It’s difficult to hear someone though when they won’t say anything. 

She wonders if sparring would make it better but when she asks he shakes his head. 

He doesn’t even want to fight her. Mako hates that. She wants him to. It’s selfish but she wants him to fight. She wants him to fight her and yell at her—to do something other than what he’s doing which is accepting everything. She wishes she was like Sensei, capable of inspiring people, of urging that last bit of fight out of someone. But she isn’t. She breaks people, she reminds them what they’ve lost. 

Herc Hansen is known for many things, tact is not one of them. 

He shoves them both in to a windowless room that must break some kind of fire code since it’s full of boxes and has one elevator which Mako is fairly certain he has guarded. They’re supposed to organize things and Raleigh is so desperate not to spend time with her that he does it without complaint. He’s not so desperate that he refuses though, which Mako clings to with her fingertips as she watches him. He’s strong now. Well, he was always strong but he doesn’t favor either shoulder now as he lifts the boxes around her. 

They trudge back to their quarters together, which are still across the hall from one another. In the beginning they get inside as fast as possible. Except they slowly don’t. One night he mutters something that might have been ‘good night’ and lingers outside of his door for a moment longer than he did the previous night. Mako hates and loves those moments because it feels like she should know what to say. It doesn’t occur to her that there might be nothing to say, only that there is and she is just too foolish to say anything. 

She breaks two months after coming back. 

"Can we talk?" she bursts out when they’re at their respective doors. 

"Don’t think we’ve got anything to say," Raleigh says and there’s an edge to his voice. 

"Then listen," she snaps right back, ignoring the way one of his eyebrows raise, "I’m sor—"

It takes him two steps to close the distance, wrap one hand around the back of her neck and drag her mouth to his. His lips are rough and angry on hers but this is a language she understands. She meets his anger with hers, hissing softly when his teeth sink in to the bottom of her lip. Just as quickly as he’s started he stops, rips his lips away and looks at her for a moment before turning and storming back over to his room. 

She lays in her bed at night with a hand pressed to her lips and wonders if they’ll ever stop throbbing. 

They don’t. 

It gets worse because she spends the day with him in a windowless room. The throbbing goes lower and curls warm and heavy low in her stomach as he lifts boxes. It’s her turn to flee at night because she’s hurt him, she has no right to want him like that. Except she does. She does because she always has and that never went away. Nothing went away. So in the small hours of the morning when she crosses the hall she tells herself a bunch of excuses she doesn’t believe. She knocks on the door and waits for a moment before he opens it. 

In the dim light of the lamp he’s flushed and breathing heavy, emotion naked on his face. Her throat works reflexively, not just because the only thing he’s wearing is a pair of sweat pants that ride low on his hips. But because she can see what he’s feeling as if she was in his head. She grabs his shoulders and yanks him forward. It’s still rough and angry as he claws her closer and she digs her fingers in to the coils of muscle on his shoulders. She kicks the door closed as he pulls her forward. 

"Mako—" he growls. 

"Shut up," she hisses back, pulling him closer. 

It’s rough. 

In the back of her mind Mako wonders if she thought it would be gentle, if things being gentle was a possibility that she killed when she left without a word. He’s rough with his hands and his mouth and when he finds a spot that makes her toes curl and her breath hitch he focuses on it until her back arches and she cries out. He pushes her over the peak again and again and again so that when he finally sheaths himself in her she’s more than ready for him. 

They fuck roughest of all. Her body is pliant but she still digs her fingers in to his shoulders and wraps one leg around his back, the other helping to snap her hips up and meet his thrusts. His breath is hot on her neck as she presses their faces close together. He kisses her roughly a moment before she hits her peak, swallowing down the broken cry that comes from her lips as his thrusts become erratic when his own release sweeps through him. 

They barely catch their breath before they’re going again. 

It’s just as harsh and rough and Mako buries her face in his neck. Not so that she won’t have to look at him but because she wants to remember everything and she knows how easy it is for an image to fade in her mind. But his smell is familiar, it’s stronger because he’s right on top of her. When they break apart after another round he pushes himself up without a word. Mako knows that’s her cue to leave but she’s incapable of moving for the first time in a while, pushed to a limit she didn’t know she had. 

When he comes out of the bathroom she pushes herself up but doesn’t move from the bed. 

"Are you alright?" she asks. 

He approaches her cautiously as she tugs the sheet up and around her. He sits on the bed and it dips under her weight. 

"No," he admits finally, "you?"

"No," she says, "but I’m better."

His face twists and Mako knows he can see the reddened skin from where the sheet doesn’t cover it. His fingers move against the sheets and she reaches down, pressing his hand to her skin. His fingers are gentle against the bruise as he looks down at her. She reaches out with her own hand and brushes against the bruises she’s given him. When she leans forward she kisses him gently, her lips moving against his. He kisses her back and his fingers are tentative when he threads them through her hair. 

They kiss for a while as she pushes him back against the bed. He turns them so they’re tangled on the bed. When he pulls apart it’s only to grab the blanket from the bottom of the bed where it’s been kicked. He pulls it up to them and wraps his arms around hers. 

He doesn’t ask her to say. 

Then again, he’s never had to.


End file.
